


Responsibility and Restraint

by Fumm95



Category: Open Heart (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Late night introspection, Pining, Sharing a Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-24 15:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18574210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fumm95/pseuds/Fumm95
Summary: Ethan's thoughts on their last night in Miami.





	Responsibility and Restraint

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 10 was simultaneously the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me and I AM YELLING. I had like two more WIPs for these two but the inspiration for this one just slapped me over the head so I had to write it out.

It was all a mistake.

On the couch, Ethan slowly rolled to his side, wary of the impending drop. Whatever the Celestial had anticipated occurring in their luxurious oceanside suite, someone using their sofa for a night’s rest had clearly not been one of them, given the narrow cushions and sharp drop that was only inches away from him.

Then again, she did say that they had been given a couples’ suite and it was doubtless rare for such arrangements to result in someone being relegated to the couch. Hell, even he hadn’t fully anticipated that the night would result in him forcing himself into an overly cramped space and lying wide awake at two in the morning when they had an early flight to catch.

And it was all his own damn fault.

In the darkness, his eyes wandered, drifting from shadow to faint shadow until the hint of moonlight filtering in from the window drew his gaze. Their balcony was dim, but still bright enough that he could see the spot where he had stood those few hours earlier, drunk on that shared bottle of wine mixed with lingering adrenaline and success. Where he had, for the first time in a long while, let himself forget all of his burdens and lose himself in that heady rush of risk and reward, in the warmth of understanding and compassion, in soft brown eyes and softer lips.

Where he had forgotten himself and all of the logic and reason that he lived by, that he had always prided himself on.

After all, he knew better. After a decade of practicing and mentoring, of carefully side-stepping the interests of countless infatuated residents, nurses, and fellow physicians alike, of failed attempts at romance and long breaks and whatever it was he had with Harper, he had grown used to being pursued, especially by those who were focused solely on his influence or appearance or whatever else that had nothing to do with what actually mattered. He knew how to deal with disingenuous interest or unwanted attention or even disappointment. He knew better than to be involved, especially with someone else—with an intern, no less—at Edenbrook.

And yet…

And yet, he could still feel the gentleness of her lips on his, the frantic beating of her heart under his palm, keeping in time with his own. And in spite of the hours since and the sobering, he still _wanted_ , still remembered the weight of her in his lap, sitting together on the balcony with the crash of the ocean waves around them, her elegant dress bunched up around her waist…

He shook his head, pushing himself upright and scrubbing a hand down his face. Denial was pointless; sleep would not be forthcoming, not when his thoughts continued to circle back to their evening and the dam it had broken within him, that he hadn’t even fully acknowledged until it had ceased to exist. Instead, he stood up and made his way to the door. Even a walk had to be more productive than lying awake in the dark awaiting sleep that would no doubt prove elusive.

Passing into the main room of the suite, he paused, squinting in the dim light. The windows were uncovered, curtains pulled aside to reveal, in even clearer view, the balcony and their still unfinished bottle of wine. Without thinking, he crossed to it and grabbed the cloth, though before he could pull it shut, he glanced back, his eyes falling on the bed.

He regretted it almost instantly, although that did nothing to pull his gaze away.

After the night they had spent keeping vigil in the NICU, Isabelle asleep was no longer an unfamiliar sight, but it was entirely different to find her almost dwarfed by the covers, her long hair a dark halo around her head. The moonlight fell across her face, illuminating the soft curve of her mouth, the slow rise and fall of her chest. Meanwhile, the other half of the overly large bed remained untouched, at once endearing and tempting, like everything about her, and his hand fisted around the thin cloth.

Until then, he had never understood what it was to be driven mad by one woman, nor had he ever before sympathized with the likes of Don José or Paris.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, forcing his hand to unclench, and quietly slid open the door to the balcony. Outside, the swift breeze tugged at him, pulling him farther out towards the ocean, and he obeyed, moving to the edge and resting his arms against the railing. Waves crashed against the beach, a steady pulse that should have been lulling, if not for the heat still racing through his veins, that not even the cool night air could counter.

With a sigh, he slouched, shifting to cradle his head in his hands. When he had first planned to invite her along, it had been because, of everyone at Edenbrook, she alone also knew about Naveen, or so he had convinced himself. And oh how easy it was to convince himself of that, to pretend to himself that it was only curiosity and professional interest that led him to search out Dr. Wang, again and again, that to let his guard down around her was simply an act of mentorship, the same that he had been given, all those years ago. Lie after lie after lie.

He chuckled, a quiet, humorless sound.

How Naveen would enjoy the irony of knowing that his condition had led to the late-night insomnia that plagued him as he overlooked the tropical Miami beach, desperately repressing the part of him that desired only to throw his responsibilities, his ethics and integrity, to the wind, consequences be damned. Had led to a mistake that, try as he might, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret.

Forcing himself back upright, Ethan took a breath of salty, sobering air and shook his head, his hands unclenching and arms moving to hang, stiffly, at his sides.

Nonetheless, in order to preserve everything he had built, for the sakes of the only two people who seemed to truly understand him and care for him, he had to try harder. He owed them both that much, at least.


End file.
